Beyond the edges of dawn, where light bends and whispers, lies the forgotten cradle of echoes and murmurs. Here, the shadows speak in ancient tongues, rewriting the stars in scripts unseen.
In the womb of silence, beneath the layers of the known and unknown, these ruins stand. Forgotten yet ever present, they hold stories of yesteryears, tales of gods and vistas blurred by soft obscurities.
The wind here carries fragments of lost songs, remnants of shards woven into the fabric of dreams, fading only to expose what lies beneath the veil of time itself.
Stand amidst the remnants, and gaze upon the silhouettes of what once were, or perhaps still are, structures woven by hands unseen. In their stones, you find the soft whispers of ancient slumbers.
Enter the Circles | The Silent Cenotaph